


Lucky Charms

by Mcwarr



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballerina Niall, Businessman Harry, Caring Harry, Confident Harry, Confident Niall, Cute, Cute Niall, Fluff, Generous Harry, Little bit of angst, M/M, Mean Simon, Poor Niall, Rich Harry, Stripper Niall, Strippers, not really - Freeform, strip clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:12:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mcwarr/pseuds/Mcwarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was a classy man. </p><p>He tries to convince himself of this as he sits in a strip club, gin and tonic in hand.</p><p>or; </p><p>the one where Niall is an aspiring ballerina and Harry really does care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Charms

**Author's Note:**

> this prompt came from my tumblr, narrystoranwritings.tumblr.com. feel free to go over there and leave me a prompt :)

Harry was a classy man. 

He tries to convince himself of this as he sits in a strip club, gin and tonic in hand. The air is smokey, but the club is far from being sketchy or rundown like most of the other strip clubs in London. Harry is a classy man, after all. He goes, along with colleagues sometimes, to this nicely refined club where men and women alike dance, sometimes with their clothes off. 

Harry really isn’t that kind of guy, either. In fact, the first time Harry had ever been here, it was during his best friend, Zayn’s bachelor party. Harry planned on spending the night rolling his eyes and scoffing at the displays in front of him. He didn’t understand why he would enjoy watching people dance provocatively, without even getting to touch them, when he could go to any regular club and pull almost any person he wanted. He had only gone along because he was Zayn’s best man, and it wouldn’t be fair to not go to his best friend’s bachelor party. 

But that didn’t really explain why Harry came to Fahrenheit. 

Harry had a slight infatuation with one of the dancers in particular. Well, Zayn and Louis referred to it as an obsession, but their opinions really don’t matter. The dancer in particular has a gorgeous blonde haired boy with a small body and long legs. He had bright blue eyes that shone with innocence, making everyone wonder how a face like that landed in a place like this. He has dark eyebrows that were nicely shaped, obviously manicured, matching his finely trimmed fingernails. 

Yeah, maybe Harry spent a little bit too much time staring at this boy. The boy, _Lucky Charms_ as many called him, knew all about Harry’s little crush. After all, Harry had spent quite a bit of money on him, so much so that after the first few times, Lucky Charms had given him a private show for free, out of the goodness of his heart. Harry wished he knew the boys real name, but during every lap dance, every teasing conversation they had, the boy would introduce himself as Lucky.

* * * *

“C’mon, baby…” Harry groaned into the boys ear, holding him close by the waist, having broken the “no touching” rule many nights ago. The blonde giggles lightly, making Harry’s heart flutter, “Just tell me your name..” Harry begs. “You know by now that I care about you.” He mutters whilst kissing the boys neck softly, making the boy whine. 

Harry makes an annoyed sound as the boy shakes his head. “You know my name.” He laughs in his cute, Irish lit. “I’m Lucky.”

Harry snorts, knowing he probably won’t ever get his answer. “No.. I’m lucky.” He growls as he begins sucking hickey after hickey into the moaning boy’s neck.

* * * *

It drove Harry absolutely mad, and the boy knew it. Every time he would follow his “name” with a smirk and a wink, making Harry growl in frustration just thinking about it. Before Harry can continue on thinking about his… stripper, the lights dim and Harry knows its time. 

Excitement curls in his stomach as he hears the familiar beats of “Earned it” by The Weeknd begin. “Lucky” walked onto the stage with his usual poise and sensuality, already swaying to the music accordingly. It was obvious that “Lucky” had done some sort of ballet dancing before, which may have been the reason Harry was so intrigued with the boy to begin with. While the other strippers were down right slutty, shaking their butts and grinding against the floor with no sense of originality. Then there was Lucky Charms. 

Rather than choosing fast faced, harsh songs like the others, he stuck to slow and sensual songs where he moved his body in impressive motions, sticking his leg into the air seamlessly and slowly moving his body against the pole or the stage like he was making love to it (picture one of those “Grind on me” vines). 

The blonde noticed Harry as he’s dancing, smiling at the man happily, and Harry pretends that the boy is genuinely happy to see him, rather than happy to see the money in his hand. 

“Lucky” doesn’t give him any special treatment though, just winking at him playfully before strutting across the stage with an extra sway to his hips. Harry watches greedily, mouth almost watering at the way “Lucky’s” ass looks in his shamrock underwear that may or may not be women’s. He watches on jealously as the irish boy allows a group of older businessmen stick twenties in said underwear, giving them a seemingly adoring smile before grinding down against a pole in front of yet another group of men in suits. Harry wants to roll his eyes but he knows that he’s being such a hypocrite. 

Once “Lucky” makes his way back over to Harry, his bottoms are full of twenties and fifties alike, just like they always are. Niall is smirking at Harry once more, but this time he’s coming closer, and Harry sits a little straighter, smirk on his own face. 

“Harry,” The blonde greets huskily as he jumps down from the stage lithely. His song has ended, and by now there’s a new dancer on the stage to entertain the stingy businessmen around them. “Lucky” straddles Harry easily, arms looping around the curly haired man’s neck loosely and sending an enticing smile his way. Harry doesn’t even prolong it this time, pulling the boys underwear away from his junk momentarily, making the boy squeak and try to pull away, but Harry keeps the boys arms up. Smirking devilishly at the blonde, who is squirming in his arms now, he makes a point of looking at the boys package before lightly placing three crisp hundred dollar bills into his underwear and allowing the elastic to snap back against the boys skin harshly. The boy is red, with embarrassment and maybe anger, but Harry laughs, patting the boy right where he put the bills, making the boy moan lightly. 

“I hate you.” He says, hiding his blush in Harry’s neck, and Harry can see the boy’s manager glaring at the two. 

Harry laughs, pulling the boy up and past the manager, slipping the man “Lucky’s” usual amount. The Irish boy hides his grin as Harry pulls him down into their usual room, whining, “You didn’t even ask if I would give you my time. Maybe I had something else planned.” Lucky huffs. 

Harry ignores his whines, cutting straight to the point, his frustration of the entire night getting to him. “Tell me your name.” He demands, walking towards the blonde until his back is against the wall. 

The smaller boy is already breathless when he replies, “I told you, it’s lucky.” He tries, but Harry isn’t convinced. 

“C’mon…” He begs, kissing down Lucky’s bare, glittered torso as the younger one moans his approval. “Tell me your name.”

“Harr-Harry.”

Harry chuckles darkly, “No, love, that’s my name, tell me yours.”

Harry continues down, getting on his knees and sensually and slowly pulling the bills out of the irish boy’s underwear, stacking each one neatly on the bench next to them. Each scrape of the bill made the boy buck out, begging Harry to continue. “If you want me to do this, I’ll need to know your name.”

“Why-y?” Lucky whimpers. 

“I want to know about you, I want to know why you do this, if you like to do this, I want to know about your friends and family and if you have a dog. Don’t you know by know that you mean the world to me?” Harry rants, pulling away from the dancer. 

The boy gazes at him, a soft look in his eyes. Harry only feels a little bit embarrassed, sitting on the bench. “It’s Niall.” The blonde admits softly, looking apologetic as he kneels next to Harry. “I’m Niall Horan, I’m 18, and I’m in school to become a dancer.” Niall cringes slightly. “Like– a ballet dancer. I want to be a ballet dancer.”

Harry’s heart melts looking at the blonde, who suddenly looks so passionate and lovely in the dingy lighting of a strip club. “Niall.” He muses softly. “It suits you.” He says because it really does. 

Harry glances around the room, walls dark and lighting harsh and Harry can’t help but intervene. “But this hardly looks like a ballet studio.” He murmurs. “What are you doing in a place like this?” 

“It’s….” Niall sighs. “It’s just a pit stop, I guess.” He says, looking a bit shamed. “I go to the Royal Ballet School during the day and… here, at night.”

Harry gives the blonde a confused look. Niall blushes, looking as embarrassed as Harry had ever seen him, “Look, my family isn’t the most… well-off.” He admits. “I used all of the money that I had been saving since I was 14 for new equipment and the flight to London when I got the scholarship to the Royal Ballet School.”

Harry doesn’t say anything as Niall continues. “But, you know, the scholarship wasn’t a full ride, and I had to take out this massive student loan, and I’m so close to paying it off, but I also have to pay for food and my apartment and… I just, I have to survive somehow, alright?” He says exasperatedly, “Not all of us are multimillionaire businessmen.” He says a bit bitterly, but Harry doesn’t take offense.

Harry honestly doesn’t even know what to say. Despite being one of this places’ best costumers, he never thought that Niall was only doing this so he could survive. Niall didn’t like it here. “How much more do you need so you can stop working here?” 

Niall eyes him suspiciously. “I mean, I’ll keep working here until I get signed by a dance company, _if_ i ever do, because of my rent. But, My student loans only are only-” Niall’s eyes widen in realization. “Wait!” He shouts in excitement. Going back down through the money and counting it closely. 

He puts down the last bill some time later and looks up to Harry with watery eyes. “I got it!” He says, launching himself towards Harry, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again. “it’s done…” He whispers in pure happiness. He’s giggling, kind of historically once he puts all of the money into his bag, Harry closely following. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”Niall says, small smile still gracing his face. 

“Niall…” Harry says slowly. “Just- if you don’t like it here, then you should quit.”

Niall scoffs. “It doesn’t matter if I like it here, I have no other choice. I have to pay rent, Harry.”

Harry looks intently into Niall’s eyes. “You have other choices.” He says.

Niall opens his mouth, ready to reply when he realizes what Harry means. He begins to shake his head quickly making Harry jump to explain, “Niall- please, just list-”

“No Harry, listen, you’ve already done so much for me. Not only have you basically paid off half of my student loan, but you talk to me and you make me feel– loved– I don’t know.”

Harry’s heart hurts. 

“You’re the first and last person who would ever pay money to let me sit in his lap and cry and talk about my problems. You’re literally the best person I’ve ever met and I can’t let myself take anything else from you.“

The taller man rolls his eyes. “It would hardly be ‘taking anything’ from me. In fact, I want you to be there, you’d be doing me a favor, so wouldn’t that sort of be like re-paying me?” Niall opens his mouth to argue, but Harry shakes his head. “Niall, if you want to quit, please do. If you don’t want to stay with me, that’s fine, but I’ll pay your rent until you find a job somewhere you actually feel comfortable.” Once more, Niall looks ready to argue, but Harry stops him, “And if you feel the need to re-pay me, then move in with me because really, that’s all I want.” 

Niall looks down, contemplating his options. “Simon won’t like me quitting…” He mumbles and Harry understands. Niall must make this club a ton more popular, plus without Harry’s generous donations, this place could easily fall apart. 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Harry asks sincerely, hoping that the boy will let him. 

Niall blushes once more. “No, no, Harry. I’m already going to be moving in with you, you really don’t need to do anything else for me.” 

Temporarily mollified, Harry grins, “Wait– you’ll move in with me? Really?”Niall tries to suppress his smile. 

“Well, I do owe you, don’t I?” He teases. Harry grabs the boy up in a rush, forgetting all of the rules that the club had set before about stripper-client relationships (not that Harry had ever listened to them before). “Okay, okay!” He says excitedly. “Then, I’ll come over tomorrow and help you pick up all of your stuff.” 

Harry grins once more.Niall’s smile falters. “You really… Harry I’ll just get a taxi you don’t need to help.” Not sensing Niall’s reluctance Harry waves it off, 

“Nonsense, I’ve already cleared my schedule.” Niall opens his mouth to respond, but he hears the studio door opening so he moves away from Harry, keeping professional distance. Also having heard the door, Harry smoothes out his face and says, “I’ll be seeing you then, N-Lucky.” He stutters, cheeks reddening as he mouths ‘TOMORROW’ to Niall. 

Niall shakes his head, holding in a laugh as he nods. “See you, Mr. Styles.” Harry turns reluctantly, brushing past Niall’s boss, who smiles at him charismatically and thanks him, and leaves the club, still buzzing with excitement as he continued to plan the next day.

* * * *

The next day didn’t start nearly as perfectly as Harry had wanted. 

He had gotten to Niall’s house easy enough, gaining his address from the resistant boy the night before. His driver had given him a weird look she nye rattled off the address, but drove him nonetheless. When he arrived, he could understand why Niall might not have wanted him to see it. It was a bit run down, in a not-so-well-off part of London. There were stray dogs clattering around in garbage cans and drunk people snoring on the concrete pavement. Harry simply shrugged it off, understanding that Niall was doing his best, and made his way towards the boys shabby apartment. As he knocked on the door, his heart was jumping in excitement as he pictured finally getting Niall out of this place and into his own home where the blonde would be safe and happy. 

He tries not to let out an audible growl when Niall opens the door. 

Theres a dark purple bruise forming directly across the left side of his jaw, and despite Niall’s smile, Harry wants to murder someone. 

Niall looks slightly nervous at Harry’s look. “Niall..” Harry breathes, trying his best to stay calm. “What happened?” 

Niall’s eyes widen as his hand flies to his jaw, jerking his head to look into a mirror against the wall next to his door. He doesn’t look too surprised when he sees it. “Shit.” He mumbles, touching the sore spot tentatively. Harry goes ahead and lets himself in, closing the door behind him and taking Niall’s face into his hands, inspecting the bruise. 

“Niall.” He says in a warning tone and the blonde rolls his eyes. 

“I told you that Simon wouldn’t be happy if I quit.” 

Harry’s jaw clenches, wanting nothing more to go back into that club and punch the owner straight in the face. He tells Niall the same. 

“Harry. It’s alright, It doesn’t even hurt and I’ll- we’ll never have to see him again.” Niall soothes, calming Harry by brushing his hands un and down Harry’s broad shoulders. “It’s okay.” He repeats. 

The curly haired man grunts in disapproval, trying to distract himself as he asks, “So you’ve packed up your things?” He asks, noticing the bareness of the apartment. 

Niall nods timidly, gesturing to two decently sized bags next to the door. Harry, ignoring the Irish boy’s protests, picks up both of the bags and gestures for Niall to go ahead of him. 

The moment they get into the car, Niall jumps on Harry. The driver is blocked from a mirrored window, so Harry allows it, nuzzling into the boys neck, being careful to avoid the bruise adorning his jaw. “Thank you.” Niall whispers, and Harry only nods because really, it’s Harry who should be thanking Niall. 

Niall pulls back a moment. “Do I really mean the world to you?” He asks, head tilted and Harry can’t even believe that Niall would feel the need to questions Harry’s blatant feelings. 

Harry doesn’t answer, rather choosing to grip the boy’s neck firmly and pull him forward, kissing him harshly, almost immediately shoving his tongue past the blonde boy’s lips. 

Niall seemed to expect it, kissing back with equal excitement, grinding against the older man languidly. Harry allows this for a moment before huffing out, “Does that answer your question?”


End file.
